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By 

MARY L. K. DAVIS 


Entered in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, 
at Washington, in the year 1922, by 


MRS. LEONORA KEMP 


AU rights reserved 


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PUYALLUP, WASHINGTON 
OWL PRESS 
1922 




©C1.A674471 




FOliEWOTlD 


To parents, teachers and guardians of the young, 
who may desire to counteract the pernicious effects 
of many influences that at this time seem to be 
lowering the standards of character of the rising 
generation, this little story is respectfully submitted, 
with the hope of being helpful in forming high 
ideals in the matter of choosing a life companion, 
and, by the exercising of wisdom, avoiding the 
misery of divorce. 

The law of attraction will always be the dominat- 
ing factor in the selection of a life partner; but if 
the young people have respect for fine character, 
and clean living, they are not apt to accept anything 
below such standards; and the stories read by the 
boys and girls approaching maturity, have a power- 
ful effect upon their destinies. . 


THE AUTHOR. 


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CHAPTER 1. 


^^What is keeping him?’’ 

Catherine Smead made this half tearful, half 
impatient exclamation as she was pacing back 
and forth on the veranda of her home, waiting 
for her fiance, Phillip Wilford, to accompany 
her to a concert. 

Catherine glanced at her watch. ^Ten min- 
utes past eight” she said nervously. ^^We will 
be too late for the opening chorus which I did 
so much want to hear.” 

don’t think I will go, even if he comes,” 
she decided. 

As Catherine raised her hands to loosen her 
wraps, a machine driven a racing speed turned 
into the driveway. When the car stopped an 
unsteady figure alighted, and came reeling up 
the veranda steps. ^‘Goodsh sheven, boysh kep.” 
The sentence was never finished, because the 
swaying form crumpled in a sickening heap at 
Catjherine’s feet, and her hysterical scream of 
“0! daddy. 0! daddy,” brought her father to 
her side. 

James Smead was a temperate man, and he 
was horrified at what he saw when he reached 
the veranda, but calling Evans the man-of-all- 
work to help him, Phillip Wilford was. put to 
bed to sleep off his drunken stupor. 


2 


RESULTS 


Leaving Evans on guard, Mr. Smead hurried 
back to where Catherine, too shocked and miser- 
able to move, still sat on the settee as he had 
placed her before going indoors with Philip. 

The strong ache of his loving sympathy filled 
his eyes with tears as he sat down beside his 
daughter, and tenderly drew the limp form to 
his side, resting her head against his shoulder. 
Silently he stroked the bright hair, and kissed 
the pale forehead. Words were useless. Noth- 
ing but time and courage could salve a hurt so 
deep. 

^'0! daddy, 0! daddy! What shall I do? 
What shall I do?^’ sobbed the poor girl. 

‘'Dear daughter I do not know what to say. 
Let us hope it is his first offense, and will never 
be repeated.’’ 

“Daddy, I can not be here when he comes to 
himself. I will go tonight to stay a few days 
with Aunt Louise.” 

“Very well. I will go with you. It will be 
less embarrassing for Phillip as well as for our- 
selves. Phillip isn’t a coarse man, and I am 
sure it would be very trying to him to have to 
meet us when he awakes.” 

^ Hasty preparation were made, and in short 
time father and daughter again stood on the 
veranda, ready for the drive to the home of 
Catherine’s Aunt Louise. 

“Put Dr. Wilford’s car in the old garage, 
Evans, and don’t allow him to leave this house 
until he can be safely trusted. Tell him we are 
away on a visit, and have not told you when we 


RESULTS 


3 


will return. Do not let anyone know what has 
occurred/' said Mr. Smead. 

^‘Aye, sir/' answered the man. 

Father and daughter entered the sedan, their 
hearts heavy with grief for Phillip's condition. 
Mr. Smead took the wheel and Catherine 
crouched beside him could only moan, ‘‘How 
could he do it. 0 ! daddy, what shall I do?" 

A half hour's drive brought them to their des- 
tination. In a few quiet words Mr. Smead ex- 
plained matters to his sister-in-law, who took 
Catherine at once to the dainty room that was 
always waiting for the motherless girl. 

Since her mother's death two years before 
these events, it had become a habit of Cather- 
ine's to consult with her aunt about the happen- 
ings in her life that seemed important, and in 
this dark hour it was only natural that she 
should turn to Mrs. Holcomb for the comfort 
that only a loving woman knows how to give. 

The events of the evening had been a great 
shock to Catherine, and she was shivering with 
nervousness. Mrs. Holcomb helped her to re- 
move her wraps, and then drew the grief- 
stricken girl into her lap in the big aimi-chair. 
With her head pillowed on her aunt's sympa- 
thetic bosom, her sorrowing heart found relief 
in tears. 

Mrs. Holcomb waited until the hard sobbing 
grew quieter, then she tenderly asked, “Do you 
want to tell auntie about it, girlie?" 

“Not tonight, dear," answered Catherine, 
returning her aunt's caress as she rose from the 


4 RESULTS 

motherly lap, “I must think by myself tonight.” 

Mrs. Holcomb quite comprehended the sore- 
ness of a deep wound that would be hurt by 
even the tenderest touch, and she also under- 
stood that the first healing should come in the 
silence of Infinite Love. With a tender kiss she 
bade Catherine goodnight and left the room. 

From her earliest childhood Catherine had 
been taught to pray. She had been taught to 
seek direction from the Divine Spirit. Now 
habit made her drop to her knees besides the 
arm-chair, and ask for guidance as to what 
course to follow in this severe trial. 

Catherine’s mother, having a great horror of 
the evils of intemperance, had felt it to be her 
duty to teach her daughter the suffering that 
comes from the curse of alcohol. Now pictures 
of stricken homes, heart-broken women, weak- 
ling children; the wrecked talents, the poverty 
and crime resulting from indulgence in liquor 
drinking, came to the girl’s mind with terrify- 
ing vividness. 

“0! Father in heaven I cannot, I cannot 
marry that misery,” she sobbed. 

Catherine lived again those minutes on the 
veranda of her home, and shivered with disgust 
as she recalled the brutish change in Phillip’s 
handsome person. The swollen face, the drunk- 
en limpness, the mumbling lips. It was too 
horrible to see her ideal of manliness lying 
there a mere helpless, besotted thing. 

Isn’t it our ideals that we really love? We 
meet a person whom we believe to be the 


RESULTS 


5 


embodiment of what we most desire, and we 
think we love that person, but when we find 
that the soul that we worshipped is not devel- 
oped in that individual. Does our previous 
admiration continue to exist? Does that per- 
sonality ever completely attract us again? 

Catherine Smead was a serious-minded girl, 
and her love had been sacred to her. It was 
hard to give up so precious a thing, but her only 
hope of retaining that love, was for Phillip to 
prove strong enough to overcome all appetite 
for alcohol. 

It was nearly dawn before Catherine dragged 
her weay body to her bed, where at last she sank 
into the heavy sleep of exhaustion. 

When Catherine woke the next morning the 
sun was dancing about her room as gaily as if 
disillusionments, disappointments, or crushed 
hopes couldn^t exist; but the weary girl lay a 
long time thinking hard, and when she rose her 
movements were those of one whose mind is 
clear as to their course of action. She dressed 
carefully, and tried to remove all traces of the 
shock received. Catherine had a woman^s pride 
in the man she loves, and could not endure to 
have her cousins know of her fiance’s fall from 
grace. She was sure her aunt would say noth- 
ing without her permission, so that when she 
made her appearance in the family circle she 
was calm and smiling, and only a little paler 
than usual. 

After a conference with Mrs. Holcomb it was 
decided that Mr. Smead should return to his 


6 


RESULTS 


home to stop all gossip at that point, but it 
would be best for Catherine to remain several 
days with her aunt. 

^^Oh! Cathy we’re so glad you’ve come,” ex- 
claimed the young Holcombs as Catherine en- 
tered the living room. There were four of 
them; Fred, the oldest, was eighteen; Elnore 
was sixteen, and Jim and Betty, eight and six 
years, respectively. 

Jim seemed to feel it to be his mission to add 
as much varied experience as possible to the 
lives of those about him, and Betty was his 
helper and friend in all his mischief. 

have planned to spend all of tomorrow 
at Point Defiance,” said Mrs. Holcomb; ‘'we 
were intending to drive over to get you to go 
with us, so we are truly glad that you came.” 

As the big touring car sped through the coun- 
try early the next morning, with its merry 
party, Catherine, nestled in her corner, feasted 
her eyes on the beauty of exquisite sky tints, of 
fiowers and trees, on the glint of the sun on the 
water, and wondered why, in the midst of all 
this glorious loveliness, men could degrade 
themselves to a state below comparison with 
anything else. 

The cities of the Puget Sound country make 
a specialty of beautiful parks. The Tacoma 
peninsula thrusts the sharp point of its north- 
ern shore into the waters of the Sound, and 
much money has been expended to make the 
natural beauty of the Point one of the world’s 
fine gardens. To the parks of their cities the 


RESULTS 


7 


people of the Sound country flock to enjoy their 
holidays. There are no ^‘Keep off the grass’" 
signs, and the grass is walked upon, sat upon, 
rolled upon, and played upan, and remains 
green and thick. 

The Holcomb family always enjoyed an out- 
ting at Point Defiance. On this visit they were 
delighted to find that a favorite camping spot 
was unoccupied, and in a short time had made 
themselves comfortable for the day. Tours of 
inspection were taken to the different places of 
interest, but good appetites brought them all 
together at lunch time. 

^‘Momsie, Pm so hungry,” wailed Jim, as he 
turned a handspring. 

‘^So’s I,” echoed plump Betty, as she clumsily 
tried to follow Jim’s example. 

^Xunch is nearly ready, children, dear; be 
patient till the coffee is made,” answered Mrs. 
Holcomb, as she stooped to kiss Betty and 
straighten Jim’s collar. 

‘T wish dad was here. When’s he coming 
home, momsie?” 

^^Next week, my son. Are you so anxious to 
see him?” 

^^Yes; he’d let me go in swimming, and you 
won’t,” whined the boy. 

^'Lunch is ready,” called Catherine. 

The luncheon is the central thought of a pic- 
nic. A lunchless picnic would seem a very tame 
affair to most people. Some unusual delicacies 
are always provided for that delightful meal 


8 


RESULTS 


out of doors, and the spirit to play comes as 
natural as breathing. 

The Holcombs thoroughly enjoyed the fine 
lunch they had brought with them, and when 
the few remains were repacked in the baskets 
to be ready for a bite during the evening drive 
homeward they were prepared to plan for the 
amusements of the afternoon. 

“I think I will take a sketch of the lions,” 
said Elnore. “The head of a lion is our exami- 
nation lesson in drawing.” 

“I’m going over to see the game. There are 
a couple of teams on the field today,” announced 
Fred. 

“I will make a couch of our robes and stay 
here,” said Mrs. Holcomb. “Jim and Betty, 
you must remain with mother this afternoon.” 

“Loan me a pillow and a corner of your robe, 
and I will stay with you, auntie,” said Cath- 
erine, who was too troubled in spirit to enjoy 
sight seeing. 

“I’ll be very happy to have you near me, dear. 
Help yourself.” 

The hours slipped away. Elnore and Fred 
had returned to camp, and were excitedly re- 
lating to each other and their mother their dif- 
ferent experiences, but Catherine, unable to fix 
her mind on her magazine, was slowly saunter- 
ing along the open hedge of bushes that bor- 
dered the little camp. 

John Patterson, college graduate, and scien- 
tific farmer, with his mother and sister, was 
spending a day of recreation at the Point, and 


RESULTS 


9 


had selected for their use a cozy spot the other 
side of the bushes where Catherine was trying 
to walk away the sorrow in her thoughts. 

Jim, sulky because he was not allowed to 
swim in the Sound unless his father was with 
him, was sitting on the ground resentfully tear- 
ing up handfuls of grass, and throwing them 
at nothing in particular, but feeling quite 
peeved at the world in general, spied a large 
black bug busily pursuing the habits of its life. 
Another instant and that bug was securely kid- 
naped, imprisoned in a leaf, and Jim the pirate, 
was running to Catherine, well knowing her 
dread of crawling things, and calling out, 'Oh ! 
Cathy, see what I found!’' As the young Spirit- 
of-Mischief reached the girl, he threw the bug 
on her dress, and Catherine jumped backward, 
stooping as she did so to brush away the insect, 
lost her balance, and sat squarely down in a 
pan of ice water set under the bushes by John 
Patterson to keep cold his ice cream and drink- 
ing water. 

A little shriek from the surprised girl. 
Strong hands lifting her to her feet, and a 
damp and very confused Catherine was looking 
up into a pair of clear brown eyes full of amuse- 
ment, sympathy and regret. "Oh! I say, that 
was too mean of me to forget the ice. Dare I 
ask if you will try to forgive me? I was put- 
ting my mother and sister on the boat for 
Vashon, and had not yet picked up all our 
stuff.” Catherine had no time to answer him 
because Mrs. Holcomb, seeing the accident. 


10 


RESULTS 


reached her side with a travelling shawl. Rais- 
ing her eyes as she wrapped the girl in its soft 
folds, she recognized the young man, and ex- 
claimed, “John Patterson. Where did you come 
from, and where is your mother and Alice?” 
John explained. Then she introduced him to 
Catherine, and hurried her away, saying as 
they went that Mrs. Patterson was one of her 
old-time friends and neighbors in the eastern 
community where they were both born. 

Elnore’s contempuous “Well, Jim!” 

Fred’s “Now you have put toth feet into it, 
sir.” 

His mother’s severe “James, my son, I sin- 
cerely hope that you will not again be guilty of 
such conduct,” spoiled all Jim’s fun, and he 
crawled under the bushes, with Betty after 
him, and wished he was dead. 

John Patterson stood staring at Catherine as 
her aunt led her away, until Jim, who had been 
watching from his hiding place under the 
bushes, called out, “Aw, she’s my cousin. She’s 
engaged,” brought his attention to the young- 
ster. 

“Your cousin, is she? Where does she live?” 

“0! she lives home, down town,” answered 
the boy, whose peace of mind was restored to 
him with a change of subjects, and who was 
now walking on his hands. Little Betty falling 
all over herself trying to imitate him. 


RESULTS 


11 


CHAPTER 11. 

Phillip Wilford was returning to conscious- 
ness. His tongue tasted badly, and seemed too 
large for his mouth. He began to cluck, and 
turn his head restlessly. '‘Looks as if I got a 
heavy dose with the boys last night. Gee ! 
Where is my head? It aches hard enough some- 
where.’’ 

At this point in his meditations, Evans, who 
had been stationed outside the door, tiptoed into 
the room. Seeing signs of animation in the 
patient, he inquired, "Are you ready for your 
bath. Sir?” 

Phillip opened his eyes, and lay looking at the 
speaker; finally recognizing him, exclaimed, 
"How the devil did you get here, Evans?” 

"I didn’t get here, sir, I belong,” answered 
the man. 

The mists were lifting from Phillip’s brain. 
He looked wildly around the room. "Whose 
j^uJ^ome is this?” he demanded. 

"It belongs to Mr. James Smead,” said Evans. 

Phillip gave a bound to the floor. "Do you 
mean to tell me that this is Catherine Smead’s 
home?” 

"Miss Catherine lives here with her father, 
sir.” 

Wilford almost fell into a nearby chair. 


12 


RESULTS 


Burying his face in his hands he moaned out, 
“My God! My God! They will never forgive 
me. Curse the luck! What a damned fool a 
fellow can make of himself.” 

Wilford was well aware of the prejudices of 
the Smead family against alcoholic beverages, 
but the knowledge had rested lightly on his con- 
sciousness. Never until now had he realized 
how family influence might atfect his union 
with Catherine. He had not given any thought 
to his own habits, but had lived his life as usual 
without feeling any need of change, but at this 
moment he was fully awakened to the fact that 
Catherine’s relations would lose all respect for 
him if they should learn of his dissipation, and 
that his fiancee’s love might be killed outright. 

“Your bath is ready, sir,” announced Evans, 
as he busily raised window shades, and ar- 
ranged the chairs, incidently remarking, “Mr. 
Smead and Miss Catherine are away some- 
where.” This was a great relief. For an in- 
stant Phillip wished he could hope that they had 
not been at home the night before, but sadly he 
remembered that Catherine would have been 
waiting for him. 

Phillip appreciated the hot bath, and the cool 
shower that seemed to bring back his self com- 
mand; and he eagerly drank the good coffee that 
Evans brought to him, but he was too worried 
and ashamed to touch the temptingly prepared 
food. He longed to know what had occurred, 
but could not bring himself to ask old Evans. 
He remembered the meeting at the club. He 


RESULTS 


13 


remembered that he had started in his machine 
to keep his appointment with Catherine, and 
that Jim Wirt had gone with him as far as the 
entrance to the Smead driveway. That Jim had 
a bottle of fine brandy, that they both sampled 
until Jim left the car; whatever happened after- 
wards was not imprinted on his memory. 

Phillip Wilford had not been long out of col- 
lege. He had only recently opened his first of- 
fice as a Doctor of Medicine. At present there 
were not many patients, although his ability 
and attractive personality were rapidly winning 
friends to him. 

Phillip knew he must appear at his office. He 
slowly descended the stairway and passed 
through the forsaken hall to the veranda. He 
was very miserable. The deserted house was a 
censure that hurt deeply. It was well for his 
peace of mind that he could not vision the scene 
of the previous evening. Had he seen the pic- 
ture of himself as his fiancee had seen it, his 
suffering would have been unendurable. Phillip 
wondered what had happened to his roadster, 
and he stood on the veranda debating whether 
to walk or take the street car, when Evans came 
to tell him that his machine had been safely 
housed. That was good news. Evidently he 
had arrived without accident. 

The old garage was familiar to Wilford. The 
roadster had often occupied it when its owner 
was spending the evening with Catherine. Phil- 
lip carefully examined the machine. It was all 
right if he was not. His head ached severely, 


14 RESULTS 

but he took the wheel and started for the office. 

A few patients, a few calls, filled the hours of 
the doctor’s day; but nothing could quiet the 
sharp agony of shame and regret which grew 
stronger as his outraged brain was being re- 
leased from the deadening effects of Jim Wirt’s 
brandy. Often he had drank more than was 
good for him, but never before this time had he 
lost control of himself. 

Phillip wished he knew what had happened. 
He had been a long time winning Catherine’s 
consent to marry him; now he was afraid he 
had lost her, and he loved her ; she was so pure 
and good; so sensible and lovable. 

cannot give her up, but, will she forgive 
me?” he groaned to himself. 

Wilford knew he must make some explana- 
tion to Mr. Smead as well as to Catherine; but 
how to go about it, how to excuse such an of- 
fense, what to say, he could not get clear in his 
mind. It was several days before he mustered 
the courage to phone to Mr. Smead and ask for 
an^ interview. 

When Phillip arrived at the Smead residence, 
Catherine’s father was waiting for him on the 
veranda. 

‘‘Good evening, Phil. Come over here and be 
comfortable,” said Mr. Smead cheerily, while 
he patted the pillows on the settee. “It is warm 
indoors, and I am a little lonely without my 
girl. I am glad you came.” 

“Isn’t Catherine at home?” asked Phillip, 
who was both glad and sorry that he was hot 


RESULTS 


15 


obliged to meet his sweetheart this time. He 
was glad because of the deep shame that was 
his. Sorry because of his longing to see her, to 
hear her voice, to touch her hand once more. 

^^Catherine is at Holcomb's. I believe they 
would keep her always if I didn't assert my 
rights occasionally; they don't seem to think 
her dad has any need of his daughter," 
grumbled Mr. Smead. 

‘‘Mr. Smead, I-I didn't come to offer an ex- 
cuse for what occurred the other evening ; there 
isn't any to cover it. I came to ask if I might 
hope for pardon. I-I promise you such a thing 
shall not happen again," blurted Phillip. 

“My son, God has promised to forgive our 
sins when we repent and turn from evil ways, 
and who am I that I should dare to withhold 
forgiveness. I truly hope that you will keep 
your promise to let it be the last time, as I also 
hope it was the first; F would not like to again 
see you in such a condition," kindly answered 
Mr. Smead. 

A singing sparrow twittering his goodnight 
to the departing day was the only sound that 
broke the long silence that followed when Mr. 
Smead ceased speaking. Phillip was aimlessly 
fingering his hat. The older man was looking 
out over the lawn with moist eyes. Catherine's 
father was fond of his daughter's fiance, and 
had been greatly worried about Phillip's delin- 
quency. 

“Will you ask Catherine if she will try to 


16 


RESULTS 


forgive me?^^ asked Wilford; his voice trem- 
bling slightly with his deep contrition. 

‘Thillip, from earliest childhood Catherine 
has been taught to prayerfully work out her 
own problems; to come to her mother or to me 
for advice only when she could not reach a satis- 
fying conclusion for herself ; of course we tried 
to guide her to a wise and right decision. In 
this crisis of her life I can say very little to her 
until she comes to me. Catherine will be at 
home tomorrow. May I tell her that you will 
call?’^ 

''Indeed, you may do so. I am longing to see 
her. I do love her, sir, and I don’t intend to 
hurt her again.” 

"You and I will say no more about the af- 
fair, Phil.” Mr. Smead then began a discus- 
sion of general topics, so that when Wilford 
rose to go to his home he was more at ease than 
he had been at any time since he first awoke to 
the knowledge of the effects of Jim Wirt’s 
brandy. 


RESULTS 


17 


CHAPTER III. 

In the soft, warm air of another summer 
evening, Catherine again sat on the veranda 
watching to see the lights of Phillip’s roadster 
turn into the driveway of her home. Night was 
trailing her dark draperies over the earth, and 
Catherine was glad to have the comfort of the 
shadows during the ordeal of the coming inter- 
view. It would be difficult to say to Phillip 
what she intended to tell him, and the shield of 
the enfolding darkness would be a support to 
her courage. 

As the machine stopped, and the fine figure of 
its owner approached her, Catherine felt as if 
awakening from a dreadful dream. A thrill of 
tenderness flashed over her, and she drifted into 
her lover’s outstretched arms. 

Phillip held her closely; almost fearing that 
she might vanish away from him forever if he 
let her go free from his embrace. Bending nis 
head, he whispered, '^Darling, what can I do to 
atone?” 

Catherine rested against him a moment be- 
fore she drew herself away to answer his ques- 
tion. 

^^Let us sit here,” she said, leading the way 
to the settee. 

Phillip arranged the cushions to make a com- 


18 


RESULTS 


fortable resting place for his fiance, but Cath- 
erine preferred to sit in front of him in the 
porch arm-chair. 

'Thillip, dear,'’ she began with gentle hesita- 
tion, ^Vas it, was it the first time? Tell me, 
truly." 

Wilford waited a moment before he answered 
slowly, ''O! IVe taken a glass with the boys 
sometimes, but I never forgot myself before. I 
don't understand how it happened." 

Catherine stared at the vines growing over 
the veranda. There was a cold clutch at her 
thoughts. What she dreaded to know Phillip 
had told her was a fact; he was accustomed to 
drinking, 

Wilford's eyes had been riveted on his hat 
which he had been twirling over his hand. 
Feeling the silence between them he glanced at 
Catherine, and saw by the light of the rising 
moon, how set and white her face had grown. 
He put out his hand to try to draw her closer 
to him, but she shrank away.. Leaning towards 
her, he said, ‘^Sweetheart, it is a matter of busi- 
ness; the boys think a fellow is a softy if he 
doesn't take something once in a while." 

‘T admire a person who cannot be ridiculed 
into degrading himself," said Catherine slowly ; 
then with a quickly drawn breath, she added, 
“Phillip, Phillip, we cannot marry, we must not 
marry, unless you will give up entirely those 
habits. Dearest," pleaded the girl, drawing 
closer to him, “mother used to say that when 
people married it was their duty to give to the 


RESULTS 


19 


world clean-bodies, clear-brained children, and 
that they couldn’t do so if their blood was pois- 
oned with alcohol.” 

The young physician had nothing to say. 
Well, he knew she spoke the truth. 

Catherine sat tense, straight back against her 
chair, with her tightly clenched hands lying in 
her lap. Wilford covered one of those cold 
hands with his own, and in a voice mellow with 
tenderness and longing, said, ^'Little sweet- 
heart, if we married soon it would help me 
over — ” 

Catherine rose quickly to her feet, saying a 
little impatiently, ‘Thil, I don’t want to help 
you. The father of my children must be strong 
enough to help himself. I will wait for you 
three years — ^we are both young. I will wear 
your ring for that time. At the end of three 
years if you have entirely overcome all desire 
for liquor we will wed ; that is, of course, if you 
care to wait for me. Oh, Phillip, if you love me, 
you will win.” 

^‘Those are hard conditions, Catherine. Three 
years is a long probation. Surely a fellow 
might prove himself in less than three years. 
I’m not going to be a drunkard, I promise you 
that. Three years,” said Wilford, looking down 
and fumbling his hat; ^^dearest, till next week 
seems an eternity. Three years? I’ll die.” 

‘T couldn’t expect you to wait for me if you 
do not want to do so,” said Catherine loftily; 
you might find someone willing to take the 
chances,” 


20 


RESULTS 


“0 ! I’ll wait. I’m not wanting anyone else,” 
hurriedly answered Phillip. 

A clock was striking the hour. Wilford rose 
and bent over his fiancee. “Will you kiss me 
good-night, darling? I must go now to see old 
Nixon; he is down again, and I promised to call 
before bedtime.” 

Catherine slowly raised her head, and Phillip 
reverently kissed her cold lips, saying tenderly, 
“Dear little sweetheart, goodnight. You are 
right. May God bless and keep you always.” 

After the young physician went away, Cath- 
erine sat for a long time huddled in a corner of 
the settee. The bright moonlight, the gentle 
waving of the soft summer air, the witchery of 
soft light and shadows were so soothing to her 
tired nerves that she almost fell asleep, but 
thinking she was looking up into a pair of 
laughing brown eyes, startled her into con- 
sciousness. “The idea!” she muttered impa- 
tiently, and took herself off to her room. 


RESULTS 


21 


CHAPTER IV. 

The branches of the bare trees made a black 
lace border for the edge of a leaden sky. 

John Patterson stood in the midst of his 
blackberry field regarding with interrogating 
eyes the long line of folding gray clouds at the 
horizen. Did the weather intend to rain, or 
would it be only cold and cloudy? The hand- 
some collie at his side looked up at him with an 
expression of patiently waiting for his master's 
decision, as is the habit of canines. 

'Well, Snaps," said Patterson, addressing the 
dog, "if it rains we cannot go to town, our tires 
are too smooth; if it does not rain we will go, 
and buy a set of new ones, and some chains." 

Patterson was slowly approaching the pretty 
bungalow where his mother and sister kept 
house for him, when Mrs. Patterson opened the 
kitchen door, and called, "John, did you intend 
to go to Tacoma today?" 

"I have had a private interview with the 
weather trying to decide that question, mother, 
but if you want something very much we will 
take the case into our own lands. What is it?" 

"Alice is invited to a party, and needs the 
dress she bought last week ; it was left to be al- 
tered at Jenkins & Sons, and I have a list of 
groceries I would like to have you bring home 
with you." 


22 


RESULTS 


''Very well, mother, I will be eating up the 
distance to town in about ten minutes/’ 

It was less than ten minutes later when 
John’s machine rolled to the concrete paved 
highway. Snaps, looking important and happy, 
sat beside his master. 

John did not drive fast. There had been rain 
the day before and he loved the clean air, the 
fresh brightness of the evergreen foliage, and 
the sweet dampness of the December day; he 
admired the sparkling vitality of each tiny 
plant and blade of grass of the carpet of ver- 
dure that covers the ground almost the entire 
year, in western Washington and Oregon. 

Patterson turned his machine into an aban- 
doned road, where the sulal bushes spread their 
shining leaves from the ground to several feet 
in the air, forming a lovely hedge beneath the 
conifers that lined the road on either side. As 
John peered into the forest he saw dogwood 
trees, wild currant bushes, and spireas among 
a wealth of interesting undergrowth. There 
were ferns making homes on the roots of old 
trees, and logs and stumps wearing great 
plumes of ferns to make their old age attractive. 
Just the place to stroll with one’s beloved. 

"Snaps,” said John to his dog, "I see a pair 
of indignant, embarrassed, clean-souled gray 
eyes, looking straight into mine. I wish she 
was here to see this wonderful old road with us. 
If she wasn’t engaged to that other lucky chap, 
we would ask her to come, wuldn’t we?” 

Snaps had been taught to restrain any inch- 


RESULTS 


23 


nation he might have towards undue familiar- 
ity, when his master was driving, but he could 
not resist placing one fore paw a little nearer 
to him, turning his dainty nose almost into 
John^s collar, and winking his eyes in under- 
standing sympathy. 

An instant later Snaps gave a low growl; 
John looked in the direction indicated by the 
dog, and saw a woman approaching him. She 
was walking briskly, but evidently appreciating 
the beauty about her as she stepped along. She 
was wearing a motor coat and velvet toque of 
dark green. She seems like the ^‘Spirit-of-the- 
Forest’’ she harmonizes so well with the sur- 
roundings, thought John. To Snaps he added 
aloud, ^'Some woman out driving has had an ac- 
cident, and needs assistance. We must help 
her.^’ 

A second look at the lady and John ex- 
claimed, '‘Snaps it is our gray eyes. What do 
you think of that?’’ It didn’t take long to stop 
the machine and reach the ground in time to 
greet Catherine Smead. 

"Good morning. Miss Smead.” 

"Oh! Mr. Patterson, good morning. I am 
selfishly glad to meet someone I know,” an- 
swered Catherine. My coupe is back on this 
road. I’ve had a blowout. I am helpless be- 
cause daddy borrowed my jack, and has forgot- 
ten to return it.” 

"I will be very happy to do anything I can,” 
and Patterson held open for Catherine the door 
of the tonneau. "Snaps, you must sit on the 


24 


RESULTS 


back seat. Over, sir.'' The dog obeyed, jeal- 
ously eyeing the newcomer as he did so. 

^'What a lovely dog. Is he cross? What's his 
name?" inquired the young lady as she seated 
herself in the car. 

‘T call him Snaps. Miss Smead this is 
Snaps," introduced John. 

The intelligent creature waited a second to 
give Catherine a critical survey, and then laid 
his fine muzzle in her out-stretched hand, wag- 
ging his tail with pleasure as she stroked and 
petted him. 

The coupe was soon reached. While Cath- 
erine was telling Patterson where the trouble 
was located, that gentleman was busily opening 
his kit box, lifting seats, feeling along the ton- 
neau floor, and apparently much puzzled ; final- 
ly he turned to Catherine, saying, ^‘Really Miss 
Smead, it is quite comical, I don't find my jack 
either. I will not be able to fix the tire, but I 
have a stout rope. If you will accept a seat in 
my car we will pull the coupe home." 

'T will be sorry to put you to so much trou- 
ble, but I would like to get home as soon as I 
can, and I will be glad to accept your kind of- 
fer. I promised to do some typewriting for my 
father this afternoon, and he likes to have me 
on duty promptly. I ought not to have come 
out," Catherine added as she nestled into the 
car seat, '‘but I felt that I must have a run to 
the woods ; they are so resting, so wonderful. I 
love this old road. I often drive through it." 

"So do I," said John. 


RESULTS 


25 


^Tlease come into the house, and meet my 
father, Catherine entreated, when all too soon 
for Patterson’s wishes the Smead residence was 
reached. 

‘‘I will be glad to do so,” answered John. 

With the easy grace that was natural to him, 
James Smead greeted John Patterson, and 
thanked him for the help given to his daugh- 
ter. As the two men chatted together Mr. 
Smead was being greatly attracted to the 
younger man. He liked the quiet self-reliance, 
the masterful poise of him, and he asked John 
to remain to luncheon. John accepted the invi- 
tation grateful for an opportunity to visit with 
Catherine one more hour. 

When Patterson departed to go about his er- 
rands, Catherine went to her room, and from 
the windows watched his machine until it was 
out of sight. She was still standing motionless 
thinking, thinking; when her father’s knock 
aroused her from her meditations, and she an- 
swered, ^^Yes, dad, I’m coming.” 

John Patterson returned to his home, and 
ran his machine into the garage as usual. 
Snaps remaining in the car till bidden to alight, 
watched his master fumbling with the rugs on 
the tonneau floor; saw him take a queer look- 
ing thing, and put it into his kit box. Noticing 
that the dog was eyeing his movements, John 
said, looking sternly at him, ''Snaps, you deceit- 
ful creature, do you mean to tell me that you 
deliberately hid my jack, and told a flb, that 


26 RESULTS 

you might visit with gray eyes? You wicked 

dog." 

Poor Snaps, being a well-behaved canine, 
could not understand why his master should be 
displeased with him, and began to look very sor- 
rowful, seeing which, John relented, and gave 
his pet a hug, whispering to him, ^'Snaps,^ if we 
never have another one, we have had this day 
with herJ’ 


CHAPTER V. 

The wide windows of Catherine’s boudoir 
overlooked the lawn and driveway of the Smead 
residence; they faced the west, and the high 
ground on which the house was built made pos- 
sible a fine view of the distant waters of Puget 
Sound, and the Olympic mountains, with all the 
intervening beauty of town and hillside, forest 
and stream. Catherine never tired of the pic- 
ture framed by her windows. 

It was to these windows that she brought her 
problems. Her favorite hour was when the sky 
was ablaze with the exquisite colorings of the 
Puget Sound sunsets. Affairs of the day that 
had seemed important faded into insignificance 
or nothingness under the spell of the beauty of 
mountain and sea, of the shadows of hill and 
vale, and the vastness, and glory of the sky. 


RESULTS 


27 


The real problems were simplified, and her path 
made clearer by a quiet visit with the sunset. 

It was gray December now, but Catherine 
sat before her windows watching a bank of 
clouds piling together on the horizon, while the 
setting sun, going down between two mountain 
peaks, was painting a patch of brilliant crimson 
on the dull sky. 

‘Tt will be a year tomorrow since my tire 
blew out on the old woods road,’' she murmured 
to herself. ‘T wonder if he remembers.” Then 
even in the twilight shadows the warm blood 
rushed to her cheek as if she felt guilty of some 
misconduct. With a motion of her hand as if 
brushing away an unwelcome object, she rose 
from her lounging chair, and busied herself 
making a simple toilet for dinner. 

During the year John Patterson had called 
on Mr. Smead several times. James Smead and 
John Patterson had a genuine liking, and ad- 
miration for each other, as well as a common 
interest in the same subjects. After his gradua- 
tion from the university in his home state, Pat- 
terson had taken an agricultural college course, 
and had chosen berry culture, and poultry rais- 
ing as the business best suited to his tastes. Mr. 
Smead’s hobby was producing strains of birds 
of high egg records, so that there was an 
interesting comparison of experience between 
the two men. 

But back of all his pleasure in J ames Smead’s 
company, was the soul’s call for its real mate. 
Patterson was aware of the longing to see Gath- 


28 


RESULTS 


erine that was throbbing into his consciousness. 
He did not intend to try to win her for himself. 
He respected the betrothal as much as he would 
the wedding ring, and he would determinedly 
keep away from the Smead residence, but the 
hunger to only look at the girl was a driving 
force he could not always resist, although he hid 
his admiration for her beneath a manner of 
mere friendliness. 

Catherine was as strongly attracted to John. 
She watched for his coming and missed him 
when he was away without thinking out the 
reason for her feelings. There was an unusual 
harmony of thoughts and interests between 
them; both of them had been reared in the 
strictest principles of temperance, and the hor- 
rors that follow indulgence in alcohol drinking 
were as terrifying to John as they were to Cath- 
erine, and in her struggle to overcome the shock 
of disillusionment regarding Phillip’s habits, 
John’s presence seemed always to rest her. 

There can be no really deep love without con- 
fidence, and trust once destroyed is seldom fully 
restored. The influence of that terrible scene 
when Phillip lay on the veranda floor, writhing 
and mumbling at her feet, had shattered for- 
ever the old idolizing, worshiping love that had 
induced Catherine to promise to give her life 
into his keeping. Try as she would, she could 
not prevent the feeling of dread that came to 
her, whenever she saw the roadster turn into 
the driveway, lest its driver might not be quite 
himself, or as he bent to kiss her, the wonder if 


RESULTS 


29 


there was the odor of liquor on his breath; yet 
she had a tender mothering pity for him; it 
would be such a dreadful ending to a promising 
career, to have all his fine talents and ability, 
all his beautiful personality ruined if he could 
not be cured of the disease of drink. 

Catherine felt that it was demanded of her 
that she give Phillip the encouragement of her 
loyalty to him, but she did not like to have him 
lean on her for his uplift; she wanted him to 
depend only on Infinite Love for the power to 
resist the temptation to degrade himself; she 
knew that pitying contempt would take the 
place of wifely love if she was compelled to be 
the support of her husband^s character as well 
as her own. She also knew that to be really 
strong a man must be able to stand alone and 
she did not aspire to be a wife to a weakling. 

Three months ago Phillip had made a visit to 
the eastern city where he had attended college. 
His manner was different since his return to 
the western coast ; now he seldom asked for his 
goodnight kiss, and when he did do so, he mere- 
ly brushed his sweetheart’s hair with his lips, 
and Catherine, unconsciously growing away 
from him, was so glad to be released from his 
caresses that she did not think to question why 
he had changed. 

This December evening, Phillip was ex- 
pected to dine at the Smead home, and Cath- 
erine put on the pretty pink dress that he liked, 
and in the coils of her brown hair she fastened 
one of the lovely pink roses that Evans had 


30 


RESULTS 


brought in from the garden in the afternoon. 
As Catherine stood before her mirror to be as- 
sured that her toilet was complete and becom- 
ing, she made a pretty picture of a lovable girl; 
she was not, however, quite satisfied with the 
arrangement of the rose, and she was placing 
it differently, when she suddenly realized the 
change in Phillip since his return from his visit 
east. She gave a little gasp as she wondered if 
he had met another girl that he liked better than 
herself. ''Would I care very much if he had?'' 
she asked the mirror. Then answering her own 
question, she thought, "I do not know. I wish 
I could forget that night ; I cannot help the fear 
of its repetition." 


CHAPTER VI. 

The day had been a very busy one for Phillip 
Wilford. He had found an unusual number of 
affairs needing his immediate attention, and he 
had worked with feverish energy since early 
morning. Now as the twilight came on he rest- 
ed in his big office chair, his dearly loved bulldog 
asleep beside him. 

Although Snyder had lived the most of his 
life at the end of a chain, because of his propen- 
sity to chase other people's cats, and to injure 
the pet dogs of the neighborhood, he had seldom 


RESULTS 


31 


been separated from his master for a complete 
twenty-four hours since a friend of Phillip's 
had placed the puppy as a gift, in the young 
man's arm. Phillip had even taken him to col- 
lege. Snyder was always given the freedom of 
the office after closing time. The dog was 
growing old, and a short romp with his wor- 
shipped master made him content to lie still 
near Wilford's chair. 

Phillip's body was very tired, but as he re- 
laxed the tension on his nerves to the comfort 
of the big chair, his mind was intent on the pic- 
ture of his visit east. He recalled the night 
when several of his old college gang discovered 
that he was in town, and insisted on entertain- 
ing him. Wine was passed. Phillip hesitated 
as he took the glass offered to him, and was in- 
tending to refuse to drink, when Tom Reed 
called out, ^^Come on, old top; a drink for auld 
lang syne." Wilford thought, Pm not going to 
get drunk. One glass will not hurt me, and 
swallowed the liquor. He did not expect to lose 
control of himself, but the wine set his blood to 
tingling, and when the second glass was handed 
to him he drank it jollily. There were more 
drinks ; and more reckless gaiety. These young 
men were all well educated, accomplished, and 
prosperous. Isn't it strange that they should 
be willing to drag their splendid advantages 
down to so low a plane and call it pleasure? 

^'Let's go down to Twombley's," suggested 
Tom Reed. ^T have heard that he has a lot of 
pretty new girls." 


32 


RESULTS 


'^All right/’ responded the gang. ^^We will 
take a look in.” 

They had drank enough to make them hap- 
pily indifferent to consequences as they sallied 
forth to Twombley’s, a dance hall on the out- 
skirts of the city. When they arrived at the 
place each one of the crowd selected a partner, 
and joined the dancers. Between dances more 
wine was drank, and the night was spent in 
revelry. 

The next morning Wilford was sure that he 
had not entirely lost the use of his legs, but his 
memory of the details of the happenings of the 
night before was very indestinct. His head 
ached frightfully. He did not want to remem- 
ber anything. He knew enough to make his 
soul sick with regret as thoughts of Catherine 
came to his mind. am thankful she doesn’t 
know. It shall be, it shall be the last time/^ he 
moaned into his pillow. 

A sense of shame, of failure and disgrace, 
hung over Wilford like a pall. He would not 
stay in that city. Hurriedly finishing the busi- 
ness that had taken him to the east, Phillip ar- 
rived in his home town as fast as trains could 
carry him there. 

Wilford was starving for a sight of his 
fiancee, but it was several days after his return 
to his home before he could muster the courage 
to meet her. He was ashamed of himself ; deep- 
ly humbly ashamed, and penitent. Finally, 
stimulated by the firm resolve that never again 
would he fall from grace, he ventured to calk 


RESULTS 


33 


As the days went by, a sickening, terrifying 
knowledge began to force itself on Phillip^s at- 
tention. He was learning that his life was 
ruined; that for him marriage to anyone was 
impossible. 

The young physician put himself under treat- 
ment at once, but daily the conviction that it 
was too late, was ground into his consciousness ; 
that for an hour^s indulgence, a single night of 
revelry, his beautiful body had become a pestif- 
erous thing to be shunned by all men with dis- 
gust, and horror. He might be able to keep his 
secret from the world for a time, but the poison 
would always be with him. 

Phillip had kept away from Catherine as 
much as he could without exciting comment. In 
agony of soul he refrained Trom the caresses 
which he loved to bestow on her ; he was too hon- 
orable to take any risk of contaminating her 
clean blood. 

Wilford^s tortured mind could not at first 
make out what course of action to follow. He 
could not break his engagement unless he could 
give Catherine a reason for so doing, and it was 
not to be thought of that she should know the 
truth, and he must never marry anyone. The 
poor fellow^s misery was pitiful, but in the 
darkness that had fallen upon his life he saw a 
door of release, and he proceeded to open it. 

This night he sat in his office, his day's work 
done, every task finished. His fine lips were 
drawn to a firm, straight line, as of one who 
has a duty to perform, and intends to get 


34 


RESULTS 


through with it as soon as possible. On his desk 
lay a large business-like envelope addressed to 
^‘Miss Catherine Smead/’ and a folded paper not 
sealed. At one side was a hypodermic needle 
case, and a small phial. 

Phillip carefully looked over all these articles, 
and laid them back on the desk. From a drawer 
he took a photograph of Catherine, leaning it 
against a pile of books in a position that suited 
him. He studied the photo several minutes, 
then his handsome head slowly sank on his fold- 
ed arms, and he groaned out, ‘^Oh! My God! 
What a price I must pay for weakness and sel- 
fishness. Had I really loved Catherine as I 
should have done — better than anything else, I 
would have no need to face what this night 
brings to me.’^ 

Wilford raised his head, and took the hy- 
podermic needle from its case, and after test- 
ing it, filled the needle with the liquid from the 
small phial, and called Snyder to his lap. 

A plunge of the sharp point, and Snyder 
sprang to the floor, only to fall over, with a 
few muscular contractions, a very dead dog. 

Phillip had turned away his head until the 
sound of movement was quiet; then he took the 
lifeless form of his pet in his arms, and kissed 
the white muzzle. “Dear old doggie, no one 
can abuse you now,^’ he said. 

Opening wide the door of his office; sitting 
beside the body of the dog, in a position where 
he could see Catherine’s picture, Phillip pressed 
the needle into his own veins, and in a few sec- 


RESULTS 


35 


onds, handsome, accomplished, successful Phil- 
lip Wilford, with a fine future before him, was 
growing cold in death by his own hand. 

A half hour later, the janitor, noticing the 
open door of Doctor Wilford’s office, looked into 
the room to find out the reasn for such a hap- 
pening after hours, and saw on the floor the 
body of Phillip with his arm around the dead 
dog, and his face in line with Catherine’s photo- 
graph. 

Dinner had been waiting half an hour. Cath- 
erine, with a cold dread clinging to her 
thoughts, laid her hand on her father’s shoulder, 
saying, ‘We will have dinner, dad, dear; per- 
haps there has been an accident, and Phillip 
couldn’t come away.” 

“He might have phoned or asked someone to 
do so,” complained Mr. Smead. 

“It seems as if he might have done so, dad, 
but perhaps a person can’t think of small things 
when there is a big suffering to be relieved. In 
the way of a woman, Catherine was trying to 
make excuses for Phillip, to her own anxiety. 

Mrs. Stewart, a widowed friend of her 
mother’s was helping Catherine with her home 
duties, and the little family had taken their 
seats at the dining table, when the sound of a 
machine on the driveway, made father and 
daughter involentarily flash a terrified glance 
at each other. A vision of that night months 
ago, when Phillip was late, came to both of 
them, and Catherine, too weak with fear to 


36 RESULTS 

speak audibly, whispered, ^^Dad, will you meet 
him first?^’ 

It was not Phillip who was waiting, when 
Mr. Smead answered the doorbelhs ring. A 
strange voice inquired if Miss Smead was at 
home; and a low-toned conversation followed 
the inquiry. 

Catherine had risen to her feet, and was 
clutching the table and her chair for support; 
she was faint with dread, with apprehension, 
and the vision of the past that raced through 
her mind; her nerves had not yet fully recov- 
ered from the shock of her discovery of Phil- 
lip’s weakness, and she was easily startled into 
a fear of a recurrence of that never-to-be-for- 
gotten scene on the veranda. 

When James Smead returned to the dining 
room, and Catherine saw his solemn, white 
face, she gasped out, ^What is it? What is it? 
Tell me quick.” 

Mr. Smead tenderly drew the trembling girl 
within his encircling arm. Laying his cheek 
against her hair, he half whispered, ^‘My little 
girl. My dear little girl. Are you strong enough 
to hear some sad news?” 

Catherine, now thoroughly frightened, 
sobbed, 'T must be, daddy. What is it? Tell 
me what has happened.” 

As tactfully as he could, her father told Cath- 
erine that a messenger had brought the infor- 
mation of Phillip’s suicide. 

^^^Oh! My father. What are you saying?” 
cried Catherine, who was growing cold, and 


RESULTS 


37 


white, and wholly unnerved as she began to un- 
derstand what Mr. Smead was trying to tell 
her. 

'Thillip dead, and by suicide?'' If it had not 
been for her father's supporting arm Catherine 
would have slipped to the floor, from sheer panic 
at the horror of such a thing. Mr.. Smead laid 
her on the couch, while motherly Mrs. Stewart 
rubbed the girl's hands and bathed her fore- 
head. 

Mr. Smead bent lovingly over his daughter, 
and the act helped her to recover her self-con- 
trol, she asked him, ‘‘What made him do it? 
Daddy, do you think, do you suppose he was 
drinking?" 

cannot tell you, darling, but there is a let- 
ter for you which may explain the affair. The 
coroner is waiting to know what directions 
Phillip has given as to the disposal of his re- 
mains. It seems, dear, that he left a note, say- 
ing that special instructions about them were 
enclosed in this letter to you. Will you see the 
coroner now?" Catherine nodded; she was anx- 
ious to be rid of strangers as soon as possible; 
to get away to her room; to think by herself. 
Phillip dead? How could it be true? 

The coroner, attended by a police officer, en- 
tered the room and handed Catherine an en- 
velope ; with trembling Angers she tore it open, 
and drew out three enclosures; one was marked, 
^^Copy of my will;" another one bore the in- 
scription, ''Strictly private;" the third was an 
open paper. Catherine's eyes were full of tears 


38 


RESULTS 


as she passed the unsealed paper to her father. 
‘T-p lease read it for me, daddy/’ she said 
brokenly. 

James Smead read that Phillip desired him 
to take charge of the funeral arrangements, and 
to have his body cremated, and the remains 
sealed in a niche already purchased in the local 
columbarium. He had sent a copy of his will 
to avoid any confusion in the disposal of his 
estate. 


CHAPTER VII. 

Tah-ho-ma’s white crest stood out in strong 
relief against a sky of deepest azure, and in the 
enveloping flood of bright sunlight the mountain 
gleamed and glistened like a vision from para- 
dise, on one of those ‘‘wonderful beauty days,” 
that are common in the Puget Sound country. 

The Patterson family were busily preparing 
for a drive to Point Defiance park, where, in 
company with the Holcomb’s, and Smeads, they 
were to spend the day. 

John Patterson was helping to pack the lunch 
baskets under his mother’s supervision, who 
thought as she watched him how fine and manly 
he looked, meanwhile offering a silent prayer of 
thankfulness for his clean life, and strong 
character. 


RESULTS 39 

Suddenly she said, ^‘John, I wish you would 
get married/^ 

John flushed a little as he raised his eyes in 
surprise. ^‘Are you tired of taking care of me?’^ 
he asked her, while he was industriously putting 
the salt shaker into the basket and taking it out 
again. 

‘'My son, you know better than to ask that 
question. I love this beautiful country, and 
your pretty place. But, John, dear, I would 
like to spend my last days in my girlhood's 
home. You are my baby, but, dear, you have 
two brothers and a sister settled in the old 
town, and Alice wants to go back there." 

John caught his mother in his arms and gave 
her a hearty kiss, saying, roguishly, “If I can 
find someone to have me, perhaps I will marry." 

“Have you!" snorted Mrs. Patterson, “they 
might be complimented to have a chance to get 
you." There was an understanding flash in 
her tender eyes as she turned away to finish 
the preparations for the day's outing. 

It is nearly always mother who makes the 
way clear for her son. 

More than a year and a half had passed since 
Dr. Wilford's sad death; he had bequeathed his 
office equipment to a struggling classmate, but 
the bulk of his estate he had given entirely to 
Catherine. Phillip had been an orphan, and an 
only child, but his parents had left him a very 
comfortable patrimony. Perhaps his money 
was a hindrance rather than a help to a man 
of Phillip's temperament; it made life too easy 


40 


RESULTS 


for him. Temptation is much stronger when 
there is the money to pay for its gratification. 

Catherine felt that she must make a good use 
of Phillip’s estate; not for a moment did she 
think of keeping it for herself. She wanted to 
establish something that would be a beacon 
light to warn other young men of the dangers 
of the gay, wild life. 

Alone in her room Catherine had read Phil- 
lip’s sorrowful, penitent confession of his 
fault, and she had wept with tenderest pity at 
the story; it made her feel that with the 
knowledge she possessed it must be her life 
work to do all in her power to prevent such 
tragedies. She had been trying to arrange a 
serviceable system for arousing the self- 
respecting spirit in young men, but had not yet 
been able to entirely overcome the unexpected 
obstacles that had arisen. 

It is strange, but true, that knowledge must 
knock hard and long at the door of intelligence 
before his wonderful form is recognized and he 
is admitted as a welcome guest. However, 
there were encouragements, and Catherine felt 
sure that, with her father and John Patterson 
to help her, she might put into operation some 
definite worthy plan that might encourage 
whatever young men who would come within its 
influence to save their self respect, or what part 
of it that was left to them. 

Patterson had been a frequent caller at the 
Smead residence since Catherine had been freed 
from her engagement to Dr. Wilford, and his 


RESULTS 


41 


appreciation of her fine character and lovable 
disposition increased with every visit, but he 
could not make out that the girks thought of 
him was anything except that of friendship. 
He had no idea of what Catherine's feeling for 
Dr. Wilford had been; she always spoke of him 
in terms of highest praise, because she felt that 
Phillip had suffered enough for his folly to have 
his mistakes buried with him, and John was of 
too large a soul to intrude his love upon her 
months of mourning. 

Catherine had found a deep, satisfying 
pleasure in John's friendly companionship. In 
her perplexities regarding the use of Phillip's 
fortune it was comforting to be able to confer 
with one whom she knew was untainted by the 
curse she wanted to help overcome, and whose 
firm, high principles were above suspicion. 

^^Come, girlie, we're waiting," called Mr. 
Smead from the driveway. 

‘^Yes, daddy. I'll be there in a minute," an- 
swered his daughter, as she hastily caught up a 
travelling rug and paused a moment before her 
windows for a lingering look at the beautiful 
picture seen from them. As she stood there, 
memory flashed upon her mind the scene of that 
dreadful evening when Phillip's handsome per- 
son, and all that was worth while in him, lay, 
befuddled and worse than beastly, in a disgust- 
ing heap at her feet. ‘^John Patterson will 
never do anything of that kind," she thought, 
as she took the chair beside her father. Mrs. 
Stewart had appropriated the rear seat for the 


42 


RESULTS 


better protection of the precious lunch baskets. 

At the Holcomb residence there was the 
usual happy rushing to and fro of a family pre- 
paring for a day’s outing: 

Elnore adjusting the scarf of her middy, and 
careful that her tarn was at the proper angle ; 

Jim very much interested in helping Fred 
pack his fishing tackle; 

Betty advising her doll to keep its dress clean 
all day; 

Mr. Holcomb selecting magazines ; 

Mrs. Holcomb, here, there, and everywhere, 
overlooking everything, and all the time watch- 
ing Jim and Betty to prevent them from soil- 
ing their clothes before starting on the trip. 

Having seen that the fishing tackle was 
safely packed, Jim wandered to the living room 
window to find out if life held anything for him 
in that direction, just as the Smeads’ car ar- 
rived at the door. 

“Here comes Uncle James, and Cathy, and 
Auntie Stewart !” exclaimed the boy. 

“What makes you call her ‘Auntie’ Stewart?” 
asked Elnore. 

“Well, she’ll have to marry Uncle James 
when Cathy gets married; then she’ll my 
aunt, I guess. I like her, anyway,” defiantly. 

“Who told you that Cathy was going to get 
married?” asked Fred. 

“Nobody,” answered Jim. 

“How do you know it then?” 

“Oh ! Conclusively. Mr. Patterson is always 


RESULTS 48 

taking her around/’ explained observing small 
boy. 

Mrs. Holcomb listened without comment to 
this conversation of her youngsters, as she hur- 
ried out to greet the Smeads. But while she 
was superintending the embarking of her own 
family she was taking a good look at her 
brother-in-law, and at Mrs. Stewart’s sweet 
face, and a side glance at Catherine. won- 

der,” she said to herself, as she buttoned Betty’s 
coat and put Jim’s cap straight on his head. 

The Pattersons were waiting at the entrance 
to the park when the other two machines ar- 
rived there, and, being well acquainted with the 
grounds, the party was not long in finding a 
suitable location for their camp. 

It was early in the day — plenty of time for 
adventure before the lunch hour, and Alice, El- 
nore, Mr. Holcomb and James Smead, went on 
a tour of inspection of the park rose gardens. 
Fred chose to go fishing, taMng Jim with him 
on condition that he obeyed his brother’s com- 
mands. The older, women improvised couches 
beneath the trees where the music of the softly 
swaying branches was like balm to tired nerves. 

‘T hear the whistles of a liner; the shipping 
life of the Sound is always interesting to me. 
Shall we go down to the dock to watch her tie 
up?” John asked Catherine. 

^^Yes, indeed. I love to see the big boats come 
into port.” 

They were good to look at, these two clean 
souls, as they strode away to where John’s car 


44 


RESULTS 


was parked. The firm steps, the graceful, up- 
right bodies, gave plain evidence that dissipa- 
tion was a poison unknown to them. 

The commercial centers of Tacoma are sev- 
eral miles from Point Defiance, but the automo- 
bile isn't troubled by such small matters as 
miles. The trip to the dock and return to camp 
left a goodly share of the hours of the forenoon 
for more enjoyment. 

‘‘Miss Smead, have you ever been over to Fox 
Island?" 

“No, I haven't." 

“Would you like to go there with me?" 

“I certainly would enjoy the trip." 

The water was like a smooth sea of opal, re- 
fiecting, as in a mirror, the shores and sky. As 
the little launch slipped along, leaving in its 
wake a stream of rainbow-colored jewels, 
Catherine felt as if she was living a fairy story, 
sailing in a boat of pearl to scenes of wonderful 
mystery. Around her there seemed to be an en- 
chanted world too beautiful to be real, yet it was 
a very substsantial country and her own birth- 
land. 

Fox Island is a small mound rising, tree- 
crested, out of the water. John found a place 
to beach the boat, and together he and Catherine 
scrambled up a steep bank to sit among the 
trees and ferns at the top. Beneath a wide 
branched maple tree Patterson spread his coat 
for Catherine and threw his own stalwart per- 
son on the ground near her. 

Like light through a curtain is the glimpse 


RESULTS 


45 


of exquisite realities that are perceived by enti- 
ties of pure and high-plane development, but, 
weak as the vision may be, it will lift the soul 
high above merely material expression. There 
was such harmonious unity of spirit between 
J ohn Patterson and Catherine Smead, they were 
so enthalled by their spiritual perception of the 
beauty of the day and their surroundings, that 
speech seemed unnecessary. There was a long 
interval of silence; then John put his hand over 
Catherine’s as it lay on the ground beside her. 
She did not withdraw it, and John reverently 
touched his lips to the small fingers. ‘T love 
you, dearest. Will you be willing to take me for 
a husband? Will you be my dear little wife?” 
he pleaded. 

Catherine was not really surprised, but until 
then she had not measured her feelings for John 
and the surge of the realization that she did 
care for him, with a love deeper and finer than 
any she had known before, held her powerless 
to speak, until, seeing that Patterson was wait- 
ing for his answer, she slipped her hand into his, 
saying earnestly, ’Till death do us part.” 

“Ah! You tardy ones. I began to think you 
would miss our fine lunch,” exclaimed Mrs. Pat- 
terson, laughingly, to the lovers when they 
reached the camp. “This delightful air cer- 
tainly gives a person an appetite, and we are all 
so hungry that I am not sure of anything being 
left for absent people.” 

John gave his mother’s hand an informing 
little pressure as he passed her to speak to Mr. 


46 


RESULTS 


Smead, while the remainder of the company 
were searching for comfortable seats round the 
^^table/^ which was a cloth spread on the ground. 

Food never tastes so delicious as when eaten 
out of doors. Our party were merry folks, and, 
rich in abundant health, they did full justice to 
the viands prepared for the day^s pleasure. 
There was talk, and jest, and laughter. Only 
John and Catherine, filled with the sanctity of 
their great happiness, had little to say. 

‘Where are your fish, Fred?’^ asked Mr. Hol- 
comb of his son. 

‘T have it, sir.’^ 

chorused the crowd. “Didn’t you catch 
but one?” 

“A person is mighty lucky to get one; Fd 
think one was plenty if it was big enough,” 
mumbled Fred. 

“Let us see it,” was the next demand. 

The young man hesitated. 

“Don’t believe you caught any,” said Elnore. 

“You don’t? Fll show you that I did. Miss,” 
and Fred unblushingly drew from his shirt- 
waist pocket a wee smelt, about four inches 
long, and gazed solemnly around the table, 
w^hile they jeered at him. 

Fred unblushingly drew from his shirtwaist 
pocket a wee smelt, about four inches long, and 
gazed solemnly around the table, while they 
jeered at him. 

Until he was obliged to stop for breath, Jim 
had been too busy satisfying his hunger to talk. 
Now he valiently came to his brother’s rescue, 


RESULTS 


47 


saying: ^^You needn’t laugh, we dug the clams 
for this chowder and a lot more to take home.” 

Betty had finished her ice cream and had 
slipped away from the ^^table.” Returning, she 
brought her doll dressed wonderfully as a bride, 
which she placed carefully beside Catherine’s 
plate. That young lady blushed crimson, and 
looked very self-conscious; her rosy cheeks did 
not escape the sharp eyes of the assemblage, and 
cries of ‘Who is it?” brought more blushes. 

Dear, kindly Mr. Smead rose to his feet, his 
face aglow with the gladness in his heart, and 
announced that the day had given him a son 
whom he loved and respected, adding, “and on 
the day of my daughter’s marriage to Mr. John 
Patterson there will be a double wedding, be- 
cause our old time friend, Mrs. Stewart, has in 
the last few minutes promised to remain with 
me as my wife.” He sat down amidst a babel 
of congratulations and good wishes. 

The setting sun had thrown a glory of gorge- 
ous coloring against a background of clear blue 
sky before the party began to break camp for 
the moonlight drive to their homes. 

John and Catherine strolled to a secluded spot 
near the water’s edge so that together they 
might have a last satisfying look at the vision of 
splendor spread upon the horizon. It appeared 
to them like a benediction upon their love, from 
a heavenly altar of consecration. They were 
both uplifted by the beauty of the evening and 
filled with the joy of a great love given and re- 
ceived. 


48 


RESULTS 


John’s hand sought that of Catherine’s and 
tenderly he drew her within his arm: “Dear- 
est,” he said, “I have loved and wanted you 
ever since I first saw you. It seems almost too 
wonderful to be true that now at last you have 
given yourself to me, and, God helping me, I 
will be worthy of your love.” 

The End. 




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